


i've never drawn blood (does it still count?)

by Emaisnialleraf



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Anger, Angst, Crying, Emotional, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hate, Heartbreak, Hurt, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Love, M/M, No Smut, Pain, Panic Attacks, Random Tags, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Soulmates, Stress, True Love, jenna black mentioned - Freeform, never smut, not edited, rought draft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-25
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-10-10 06:43:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10431468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emaisnialleraf/pseuds/Emaisnialleraf
Summary: (Simple and random one-shot.I know it's short but the format and emotion is worth it to me.It might be worth the read for you too. )Tyler was exhausted.Josh was there.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Random tags added so at least some kind of emotion could be present and implied.  
> Pretty apathetic.  
> Love and respect only for the boys.  
> Pure fiction.  
> Once again not edited.

He sat behind his piano in silence.  
The sound of the drums restrained as they have been for the past minute and a half.  
It was halfway through their song that he had broke his voice as well as his playing of the instrument.  
No one seemed to notice seeing as the song continued until the end.  
His fingers had grown cold now that he thought about it and without paying attention to the atmosphere around him, he raised his fingers to his face and surveyed the trembling that took place among the flesh.  
They seemed red from playing their set.  
He played his instruments more harshly when he felt as apathetic as he did tonight.  
He needed some sort of feeling even if it was nothing but false identities.  
Without thinking he dropped them back to the dull keys and pushed a couple of them in a row, leading the man across from him to begin the beats for another song.  
He recognized the sound immediately.  
As Holding Onto You blasted through the theatre he pulled back his limbs as if the piano itself had caught fire.  
The screams of the audience caused him to shake his head viciously regardless of the ache that began to make itself known.  
Voices began to sing.  
His feet began to quake.  
Hands began to clap.  
Eyes began to darken.  
He felt angry. 

The anger used to scare him, but in the current moment he wasn't afraid of anything.  
The apathy surrounded ideas in his mind refused to let him feel any kind of emotion as he stood from his piano and pushed the mic in the opposite direction.  
Almost immediately the crowd broke into howls as he stepped on top of the wooden casing and looked out onto the sea of people before him.  
When he still kept away from the mic he noticed a few worried glances but paid them no mind.  
It wasn't until the chorus that the beat to his right stopped and the crowd went silent.  
Footsteps.  
Hands grabbed onto his legs and hands from behind began to clutch to his waist.  
He was dragged from his piano.  
He was pulled into a set of arms.  
A flash of blonde appeared in front of him but the neon to his side was the color that brought him to the side of the stage. 

His name was circling in the sky above.  
Air was hard to breathe in but he did it.  
The paint on his hands and neck began to itch and he refused to scratch as he was sat down.  
His back hit a cushion and he batted away all the hands around him.

"He's not responding."

"Why isn't he doing anything?"

"What's going on?"

His body was laid back after failed attempts of hydration took place.  
He didn't want water.  
Nothing hurt and his throat was fine aside from the itch spreading across.  
He refused to scratch.

"Tyler?"

"Baby boy?"

"Joseph?"

A blanket draped over him.  
Hands were rubbing warmth into his skin as another set ran through his hair.  
A damp towel scraped across his neck and hands and the itch began to subside.  
The sweat across his forehead disappeared as something cold wiped across the rest of his face.  
Something kept dripping. 

"What's wrong, baby?"

"Why are you crying?"

"Speak to me."

There were only two people in the room.  
One voice stuck in his mind.  
Nothing else mattered besides him.  
He loved him.

"I love you too."

"Can you look at me?"

"Speak to me."

The hands in his hair disappeared.  
Only one set was left; the pair wiping the paint and sweat off his skin remained constant.  
The continuous voice above him kept him anchored.  
The drifting was coming to an end.  
He heard a sound.

"You're alright."

His voice was too hot.  
Further cold splashed against his face.  
It didn't help.  
He needed help.  
Never did he want help.  
Unless it was from the voice.  
He loved him.  
"Josh."

"Yeah, baby boy. I'm right here."

He heard the sound again.  
It was loud.  
Too loud.

It came to be his voice.  
Loud sobbing.

His eyes focused at the fan above him and he recognized the weeping as his own.  
A towel was scraping softly against his skin and his hands were tightened forcefully in the cushions of the couch.  
Turning his gaze he saw red smeared eyes.  
The vibrant neon hair. 

"You're alright."  
He was still reaching out, wiping Tyler's tears from his face as the cries began to die down.  
Sniffles and mewls were the only things left as evidence. 

"Josh."  
"Yeah, love?"  
"I'm sorry."  
"I told you, there's no reason to apologize."  
Josh ran a soft hand through the singers bangs, sweat and water from the towel being wiped from his skin.  
Freezing air latched on to the touch and he sighed.  
He sighed in contentment.  
He sighed in comfort.

Josh simply smiled at him and lowered the towel in order to nuzzle closer.  
There were eskimo kisses.  
"Can you breathe?"

There was breath in his face.  
Lips on his forehead.  
"It was a panic attack. It's gone, you're okay."  
"Was I crying?"  
"Yeah, at the end of addict. Beginning of holding."

A hand slipped into his.  
Josh smiled again.  
Josh kissed his forehead.  
Just Josh.  
He loved Josh.  
"I love you too."  
He giggled at the repeated response as Tyler simply looked at him.  
Turning him smaller frame over, he backed up and wordlessly invited Josh onto the cushion.  
The drummer complied.  
They held each other.  
Tyler laid against his chest.  
The older man's heartbeat was soothing.  
He was asleep within minutes.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading.  
> xoxo
> 
> (I want to point out that the red smeared eyes line is not about Josh crying, it's his makeup.)


End file.
